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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29680452">Alone together</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/pseuds/ScriptaManent'>ScriptaManent</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alone, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Survival, watari-centric</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:00:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,577</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29680452</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/pseuds/ScriptaManent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Watari doesn't remember how long he has been alone for. His only company is the voices he hears on the radio, the ones he keeps record of — he's not even sure why. It's a unilateral conversation, but it's the only thing that keeps him alive.</p><p>Written for Haikyuu Apocalypse Week, Day 3: Alone</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Watari Shinji &amp; Aobajousai Volleyball Club</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!! Apocalypse Week</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Alone together</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He dreams of more peaceful days, of hands patting his back and smiles that reach people’s eyes. He dreams of family and friends, and that’s enough to make him happy, to take him back in time when his world stopped and set into motion to the rhythm of a ball spinning in the air, when everything was so easy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A noise resonates in the background. It sounds like snow on an old TV screen, the kind he knows from his childhood. It’s close, it’s persistent. He wakes up at the first sizzle of a voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Watari jerks up, eyes alert and heart racing. He’s alone in the old aquarium building, he knows it, but every time there’s a flash of hope blinding him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns to the solar radio and reaches for his notepad. His fingers graze the tacky tee-shirt he’s been wearing for five days in a row — he should wash it, someday; it stinks and it’s starting to get uncomfortable but he simply doesn’t have time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Watari crawls closer to the radio. He flicks a glance at his watch — it’s 3:20pm. He turns the button just slightly to fix the frequency and he waits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&lt; Wednesday 02/24/21 &gt; he writes. &lt; 30.2FM, 3:20pm, Tokyo &gt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voices rise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hello Tokyo, what’s up on this beautiful day?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” the first person says in a cheerful tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Watari suppresses a smile, Hanamaki always manages to lift his mood. It’s as if he’s there with him, as if a piece of Watari’s cherished past comes back to him whenever his former teammate speaks on the radio.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>We’re ruling the place, as always! And now, the news</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Matsukawa takes over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was probably visiting his friend when the Incident happened. They have survived, somehow, and they’re still together. It’s just like them to thrive during the apocalypse and find joy in the little things, Watari muses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shinjuku has been stormed by a group of survivors. It’s not worth going there for supplies. We recommend sticking to smaller shops…</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice is lost in a background noise as Watari’s eyes close briefly. He shakes himself awake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He should try and find some food somewhere, anywhere. Most of the fish tanks around him are damaged but there are still some intact ones in the room he’s arranged as his new home and the souvenir shop probably still has some snacks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, he won’t eat the sandy dogfish that follows his moves against the glass. Hachiko is his little protégé, Watari saw him hatch and he’s been taking care of him since that day. It’s stupid to anchor himself there just to take care of a shark — perfectly edible, on top of that — but it’s the last semblance of normalcy in Watari’s crumbling life. Hachiko is keeping him sane as much as the voices he hears on the radio.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“.</span>
  <em>
    <span>..and that’s the story of how I almost broke my neck on a slide</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Matsukawa continues with a forced laugh, pulling Watari out of his thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Next time is my turn</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Hanamaki replies in an equally false tone. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway, that’s all for today! Don’t forget to turn your radio on tomorrow.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Live long and prosper</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Matsukawa concludes in a mocking tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They always end their transmission on these words. It’s bittersweet, both ironic and a tribute to better days when they could joke freely about whatever they wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence falls again in the old aquarium. Watari’s gaze wanders to the patch of sky he can see through the hole in the ceiling. He barely remembers what birds sounded like. They stopped existing. All of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not sure he wants to know the extent of the catastrophe out there. For now, he has Hachiko. He knows he’ll have to leave, one day, but he can’t bring himself to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The truth is, he’s terrified. Terrified of the world waiting for him outside, terrified of the reality of his loneliness. For now he’s alone because he doesn’t seek company. When he moves, he’ll be alone because other survivors are rare and some can’t be trusted. He’s listened to Matsukawa and Hanamaki’s stories, he knows what to expect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Time goes by, atrociously slow, until it’s 1:04pm precisely and Watari knows it’s time to switch to another radio station.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a boulder in his throat. He takes his notepad, writes down the date, and braces himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey, it’s me</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the familiar voice croaks — it’s hoarser even than the previous day. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I… I don’t know what to say. I still haven’t found you. I’ll keep searching.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The breach in Watari’s heart widdens, he can feel the edges crumble and fall into a pit of nothingness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m still…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” the person swallows. Watari refuses to recognize the voice. It’s too painful. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m still alone. Please, give me a sign. Steal a radio emitter, find the last working cellphone, train a rat to send messages, I don’t know! Do something! Anything…</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The timber flows, alternating between waves of anger and torrents of pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m not even sure you can hear me. I’m not even sure </span>
  </em>
  <span>anyone</span>
  <em>
    <span> can hear me. Maybe I’m talking to the void.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The person laughs, bitter and desperate. The laugh of a broken man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I keep searching frequencies, hoping to hear your voice again. I miss your stupid jokes. I wish I could tell you where to wait for me.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Watari brings his knees to his chest, not even bothering to fight back the tears gathering in his eyes. He wants to go out, he wants to find his friends, his family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants someone to give him a safe place to join but nobody can. Disclosing their location is too risky. The best some can do is to give hints but so far Watari hasn’t gathered enough of them to leave his shelter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s pretty sure Matsukawa and Hanamaki used to stay somewhere in Disneyland, not far from him, but he doesn’t know if they’re still there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please. Please, Tooru, give me a sign.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another silence, and then the radio switches back to sizzles. Watari writes down the last words dutifully in spite of his shaking hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wipes his eyes quickly and switches to another frequency. He’ll do it all day long, in hope of intercepting another message. Through the radio, they’re all alone, but they’re alone together.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Days and nights pass by in the too silent world, making sense only thanks to the radio and the dates scribbled in the notepad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a day when Watari wakes up and finds Hachiko far too pale and immobile at the bottom of the tank. He hasn’t been able to eat in days, Watari knew it was coming. His own stomach growls and he pries his eyes away, a scream trapped in his throat, too exhausted to sob.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s alone, now. He’s all alone and there’s nothing keeping him back. He has no choice but to go out if he wants to survive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Watari spends another day sitting in front of his radio, and another one planning, and another one packing… He lives off freshwater only. The only thing keeping him sane is the voices he hears — he hopes they’re not hallucinations.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>‘m here. I’m here! Please, tell me someone can hear me. Don’t you dare give up!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Watari jumps, as if awakened from a nightmare. He turns around and drops to his knees in front of the radio, frantically searching for his pen, his heart beating painfully against his ribcage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s 10:06am, on 20.7FM. This is a new signal. This is a new voice he hasn’t picked up so far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s feverish, he must be hallucinating, there’s no way—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>If you can hear me, don’t you dare give up! There’s still hope! I found people, we’re starting a camp, slowly but surely. We’ll do our best to keep our radio alive, to reach the most people we can. Don’t turn off your radio, make sure you can keep listening! I’ll give you our location. I repeat, I’ll give you our location! We’re in the Disney castle. The castle in the Disneyland park. Join us! We have ways to survive, ways to make our own food, so don’t give up!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The words are wobbly on the paper. The ink bleeds, the words blur together and Watari does his best to dry his notes and shelter them from the tears that roll down his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Get up! Come and find us! Disney castle! Now!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> the voice commands, and Watari obeys.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His knees are weak and he falls forward. He crawls to the nearest wall and digs his nails into the concrete, forcing himself up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m alive. I’m giving you a sign, so come and find me. I believe in you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The signal stops abruptly. Watari stares at the radio, a nearly hysterical laugh pushing through his dry lips. He flips through the pages of his notebook as if expecting the words to disappear but they’re still there, blue on blinding white.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Disneyland castle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a good thing he hasn’t moved. His suspicions were right, he’s right beside the place, he will reach it before the end of the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Watari squeezes the precious booklet in his hand, the record of all the transmissions he has heard. Some people are punctual, he knows exactly when they’ll start speaking and on which frequency. He can help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re all alone together, but not for long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Watari sets into motion, following the voice of his captain. He can help.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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